


It's All Tied In

by Scarlett_Lucian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Tie Swap, Drama & Romance, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24866956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Lucian/pseuds/Scarlett_Lucian
Summary: Harry and Draco have been dating in secret, for fear of public reaction to their relationship, but after a stolen moment before class results in Harry and Draco accidentally putting on each other's ties, they may have no choice but to go public.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 359





	It's All Tied In

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Once again, here I am doing a fic with a very cliched Drarry trope. I just couldn't resist! These things are cliched for a reason.  
>  I don't usually write from Harry's POV, but my side-plot/ship kind of required it, so let me know how I did and if he seems OOC or not.   
> If you like this take on a common Drarry trope, I recommend you check out my other fic 'I Won't Say I'm In Love', which is a take on the popular Amortentia trope, and of course, please check out the other Harry Potter fics on my page and subscribe for future content! So, with all that being said, enjoy!

Harry had always known that Draco Malfoy was bad news. And although the definition of what made him bad news had changed over the years, the statement was still true. Only now, Draco Malfoy was bad news because Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. And soon someone was going to notice the Chosen One staring fixedly at the Slytherin table like he was in the middle of a Quidditch game and the sea of green and silver uniforms were hiding the Golden Snitch. And that was bad news. Front page of the Prophet bad news.   
“Alright there, Harry?” Ron’s voice was tinged with concern.  
Harry hurriedly tore his eyes away from the other side of the Great Hall, trying desperately to smile and seem as normal as possible. He could only blame his distraction on worrying about Voldemort so often before Hermione’s brow would start to crease with suspicion.   
“Yeah, fine. Just thinking about some plays for practice later on,” he sputtered out, before quickly tucking into his food.   
“Well, I’m glad to hear it! That game against Ravenclaw was far too close for my liking.” Ron shook his head with dismay and nearly dipped the sleeve of his robe into a pot of jam.   
“Honestly, Ron, try to be a little more careful,” Hermione said sharply, inching her open book further away from the potential zone of damage. “You know Madam Pince gives you detention if you bring back a book in worse condition than when you took it out and I’ve had three close calls this past month already, all because of your clumsy table habits.”   
Ron’s ears reddened a shade darker than his hair. “Maybe it’s your fault for bringing a bloody book everywhere. Really, Hermione, it’s possible to still eat food when you’re looking at your plate instead of words.”   
“I never—"  
“Oh, honestly you two! Get a room!” Harry interjected crossly, pushing his plate back and standing up.   
His friends looked up at him, shock painted clearly across their faces. Well, it wasn’t his fault that they both were too thick to see what was going on right in front of their own noses. Really, for the brightest witch in school, Hermione was being remarkably stupid about something so obvious to the rest of Hogwarts. He would have expected such behaviour from Ron, but Harry had always thought Hermione had more self-awareness than what she had been displaying recently. Not that he really had any right to judge, considering his own complicated relationship status.   
Hermione reached up to touch Harry’s hand, seeing the conflicted expression on his face. “You know, Harry—”  
“I have to go,” he said abruptly, pulling away and storming out of the Great Hall, tearing his tie off as he went, the fabric seemed to be strangling him until he couldn’t breathe.   
As soon as he pulled through the doors, it was quieter, the only sound the hard pounding of his heart in his ears and . . . footsteps sharply clacking on the stone floor behind him. Harry slowly turned, stomach still twisted in knots.   
“Are you alright, love?” Draco laced his fingers through Harry’s, marked concern on his face.   
Harry sighed, falling forward to rest his head on Draco’s shoulder, letting his tie slip out of his hand onto the floor. Draco’s arms slid around his back as Harry spoke against his collar.   
“It’s just Ron and Hermione. They so obviously have feelings for each other, yet they somehow don’t see it, so they’re wasting all this time bickering and beating around the bush when they could be together.”  
Draco laughed quietly into Harry’s hair. “Is that all? You’re sick of Weasel and Granger being idiots about each other?”   
“Well, there’s something else too, I guess,” Harry said hesitantly, pulling back to look at Draco. “It’s just that, when they do start dating, no one’s going to care.”  
Draco smirked. “Goodness, you obviously care about your friends a great deal.”   
Harry smiled softly, rolling his eyes. “You know that wasn’t what I said. I just mean that, if they walked into the Great Hall holding hands, the press wouldn’t be running a story about it on the front page of every publication. Or if they did this,” he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Draco’s lips. “The rest of the world wouldn’t be up in arms about the scandal of the Boy Who Lived dating a Slytherin.”   
“That’s why we’re not telling anyone about us yet," Draco soothed, before pausing. "Are you saying that you want us to go public?” Draco watched Harry’s face closely, pale eyebrows knotted.   
“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “I just don’t want anything or anyone to wreck what we have. You mean too much to me for that.”   
Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. It was slow and sweet and familiar and perfect in a way that Harry never would have imagined. And then it was fast and breathless and burning with every touch. Harry trailed his mouth down Draco’s pale neck to the edge of his collar, tearing off his green and silver striped tie so he could trace the faint lines of Draco’s collarbone. If the Prophet saw them now, he thought bitterly, the cruel comments would rain down on them harder than hail. He could practically hear the voices, edging closer and closer . . .  
“Harry, people are coming,” Draco whispered, pulling back and buttoning up his collar nimbly, gray eyes glancing at the doors to the Great Hall, behind which came the loud voices of the students leaving breakfast to head for their first classes of the day.   
Eyes still fixated on Draco, drinking in every detail, from the faint pink colouring his cheeks to his rumpled white shirt, Harry reached down and found the smooth silk on the floor, quickly wrapping the tie around his neck and knotting it messily.   
“I’ll see you in class,” he said softly, touching Draco’s hand as he quickly moved past him, walking down a corridor as calmly as he could, given the thundering heartbeat in his chest.   
He was halfway to the Charms classroom when he realized he didn’t have any of his books, and a mad dash to the Gryffindor dormitories ensued. Satchel securely tucked in his arms, he ran back to class, muscles burning and breath pounding as he slid irritably into his seat beside Ron.  
“I think I’ve figured out a new training exercise,” he heaved out between gasps.   
“Well done, mate,” Ron said sarcastically, eyes focused at the front of the classroom, where Professor Flitwick was holding his wand up for attention.   
“Listen, I’m really sorry about what I said at breakfast,” Harry said quietly, words hidden under Professor Flitwick’s lecture. “I was mad about something else that had nothing to do with you and Hermione and I took it out on you, which wasn’t fair of me.”   
Ron shrugged congenially. “It’s alright, Harry. We’ve all got a lot on our minds, although,” he flushed faintly under his freckles. “I’m actually sorta grateful for what you said.”   
“What?” Harry asked, voice loud with surprise. Nearby students hushed him, including Hermione, who was seated three rows in front of them, separated because she had wanted to be closer to the front of the class than Harry and Ron were comfortable with. He mouthed his apologies at them, before turning back to Ron. “What do you mean?”   
“Well,” Ron said slowly, the rest of his face going redder with every second that passed. “After you left, we sort of just sat there awkwardly for a moment and then Hermione – being how she is – decided that we should talk about it and I ended up blurting out an invitation to Hogsmeade?” Ron sounded as though he was still unsure that the incident had even occurred.   
“And she said yes, right?” Harry prodded, grinning wildly as he looked at his best mate, whose face was flaming more scarlet than his hair.   
Ron mumbled something incoherent to his parchment and Harry elbowed him.  
“Sorry, what was that?” Harry asked innocently.   
“I said she said yes,” Ron muttered slightly louder, a shy smile spreading across his burning face.   
“Finally! Oh, thank Godric,” Harry said, clapping Ron on the back in congratulations. “I’m so pleased for you both, really.”   
“Thanks, Harry,” Ron said, turning towards him with a wide smile, only to freeze, staring at Harry’s chest with a confused look on his face.   
“Oh, damn, did I spill porridge on my shirt during breakfast?” Harry cursed, looking down to see what blemish his uniform was sporting.  
At first, Harry couldn’t tell what Ron was frowning at. His shirt was clean, his robes relatively free of the short hairs constantly being shed by Crookshanks, and his tie was knotted properly, if a bit loosely, and the skinnier end wasn’t longer the fat one. Actually, now that Harry was looking at it, he hadn’t tied his tie so nicely in awhile. It was verging on perfect . . . except for the fact that its stripes were not gold and crimson, but silver and green. Shit. He must have grabbed Draco’s tie after their altercation outside the Great Hall.  
Stomach sinking, Harry looked up at Ron, a half-assed explanation forming on his tongue, something, anything, to cool the suspicions that had to be running through his friend’s ginger toped head.   
But then the situation suddenly became much, much worse, as Harry heard the heavy classroom door open behind him and an aristocratic voice drawl, “Sorry, Professor, I forgot my books in my dormitory.”  
“Five points from Slytherin for tardiness, Mr. Malfoy.”  
Harry turned around, dread spreading thick through him, and saw Draco standing in the doorway, forgotten books now tucked under his arm, blonde hair swooped perfectly over his arresting gray eyes, and a Gryffindor tie knotted expertly around his neck, the bright red and gold stripes veritably demanding the room’s attention. And it received it.   
“Is Malfoy wearing your tie, Harry?” Ron asked, his voice remarkably steady, with only its dangerous tone betraying his real feelings.   
Draco frowned, and then looked down at his chest, face paling more than usual when he saw the colours there.   
Scared to look back at his friend, Harry kept his eyes trained on Draco while he softly nodded. A moment of silence dragged through the Charms classroom and he verbally added “Yes,” in case Ron had missed his first admission.   
“So you’re wearing his.” Ron’s tone made it clear that it wasn’t a question, but Harry nodded again, eyes still fixated on Draco’s. Harry tried to communicate how sorry he was, but Draco’s eyes were blank as he walked across the classroom towards Harry, stopping in front of his desk. The whole classroom watched with bated breath as the two boys look at each other.   
A faint smile curled over Draco’s lips and he flicked his gaze to the side, as if to say, ‘So, here we are’, before reaching down and grabbing his tie knotted around Harry’s throat, pulling Harry up into a kiss that seared down to his soul. Ignoring the rupture of noises from the rest of the class, Harry slid his fingers into Draco’s hair and kissed him back. After all, if the world was going to talk, which they definitely would after the tie fiasco, they might as well give them something good to talk about.


End file.
